By Chance Of Dreams
by Lo613
Summary: To be brutally honest, Dean is crap at the whole 'being a father figure' for Ben.


**Another SPN fic? On my profile? What is the world coming to? Oh well, go forth and enjoy it anyways! Disclaimer- If any of us owned Supernatural, do you really think we would still need fanfic to make Destiel happen?**

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To be brutally honest, Dean is crap at this whole 'being a father figure' thing for Ben. He genuinely does not know what to do, what to say or what not to say, how to act in general. He doesn't want to blame it on his own father, bt sometimes, when Dean says something and Ben gives him a look that clearly says that what he's said isn't the normal response, he can't help but be frustrated at his father. His father who taught him nearly everything he knows about hunting, but left him entirely in the dark about having any type of remotely normal family life

Dean doesn't know what to say when Ben asks if he can go to a friend's house. should he let him go? Should he not? How far away is it? Does Lisa know this other kid's parents? Have there been any freak happenings lately? He just doesn't know. So instead of answering he shrugs and tells Ben to ask his mom.

Dean doesn't know how to act when Ben tells him he got a B- on his math test. Is that good? Average? Bad? Unsure, he nods and smiles, says good job, and gives Ben a pat on the back.

Growing more frustrated by the day by his utter lack of any natural parenting skills whatsoever, Dean is hell-bent on finding at least one thing that he can do correct. So, when he's tucking Ben into bed one night (something he's deemed himself to be slightly below average at), and Ben asks, though somewhat hesitantly, for a bedtime story, a smile lights up Dean's face.

A story?

That he can do.

He's positive.

He opens his mouth to start in on a story, the time when he and Sammy were hunting a Windigo, before the thought hits him, that, wait a minute, a good 98% of his 'stories' would give Ben nightmares for _weeks._ He clamps his mouth shut before a single word can escape, earning a confused look from Ben.

"Dean?" He asked, clearly puzzled.

"Just a sec, Ben. Give me a second to think of a good one." Dean said with a shake of his head. He was silent a moment, mind whirling with possibilities. He has so many stories, but none, it seems, that he could tell Ben. He has stories about shapeshifters, and werewolves, and vampires, and spirits, and Gods and Goddesses, and demons, and angels, and-

Wait a moment.

Angels.

He could tell Ben about the angels.

Nodding to himself, he looks at Ben and smiles.

"Say, what d'you know about angels, Ben?" He asks, genuinely curious. Ben draws his eyebrows together somewhat, but answers nonetheless.

"They're...Servents of God? And they have wings, and wear robes, and-"

Dean cuts him off with a wave of his hand.

"I don't mean to rain on your parade or anything, but angels aren't like that at all in real life." He says, watching Ben closely.

Ben gives a grin, because Dean is really going to tell him a bedtime story, and he can't quite remember the last time that happened. Dean catches the smile on his features and returns it.

"So what are they like?" Questions Ben, playing along. Dean looks thoughtful for a moment, then returns his attention back to the boy in front of him.

"Well," He started. "Hate to break it to you, but most angels are actually dicks."

Ben looks surprised and Dean laughs.

"I know an angel though, and he's a pretty good guy."

Ben seems to be at the age where he can't quite decide if he can believe Dean or not, and everything about him says just that.

"You...know an angel?" He asks, slowly, carefully.

"Yeah. His name is Castiel. And he's nothing like the Bible paints angels to be." Dean answered.

Wonderment fills Ben's eyes, threatening to spill over.

"What's he like? He asked eagerly.

"He's...A bit strange to tell the truth. He talks all proper like, and he sort of sucks at the whole 'humor' aspect." Dean paused. "Which lines up pretty close with the Bible I guess. But you know what you said about that robes?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, angels don't actually wear those. Most of them wear suits."

"What's Castiel wear?"

"Big ol' trench coast most of the time. And a tie. Honestly though, half the time his tie is undone."

By this point Ben is completely immersed. He adjusted himself so that he was sitting up as opposed to laying down.

"What else?" He asked. '_Tell me everything' _is the unspoken end to the sentence.

"...He's really strong." Dean said after a moment. Ben cocked his head to the side slightly and he elaborates.

"You know me, right? All big and strong and stuff?" He asked. Ben nodded. In the days after Dean had moved in, Ben had seen him in the garage, working out. Pull ups, push ups, sit ups, anything you could imagine. He had asked his mom about it once, out of Dean's earshot of course, and she had told him that it was how Dean dealt with his emotions. Bed had considered that for a moment, remembering when he'd walked in to the garage, only to discover Dean practicing _something,_ Ben had no idea what, on his makeshift heavy bag, pounding on it relentlessly for a small eternity before he paused and took a step from the bag, glancing over to where Ben stood, flashing a smile nd breathing heavily, shirt saturated with sweat. Ben wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know what type of emotions could drive somebody to do what he's just seen Dean do.

Either way, he never asked his mom about it again, and he most certainly never dares to confront Dean about it.

"Yeah, I know." He answered.

"Right." Dean laughs. "Cas, he beat the crap out of me once."

Ben's eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot up.

"What?!"

Dean continues to chuckle.

"I deserved it, but yeah. Barely even tried. Nothing I could do."

"Wow..." Ben breathed. Dean nodded a bit.

"Pretty much. Scripture makes angels look like peaceful do-gooders, but really they're more like God's ass-kicking army of superpowers jerks that need to learn how to take a joke."

"That's...Awesome!" Ben exclaimed. Dean smiled.

"Don't even get me started on archangels." He warned.

"What're archangels?" Ben immediately questioned.

Adjusting himself on the bed so that he could better speak to Ben, Dean opened his mouth.

"I really only know one, and his name's Gabriel..."

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Later, much later, when Dean finally climbed into bed with Lisa, who was already asleep, the thought struck him that he'd done it. Ben had asked him for a bedtime story and he'd given him just that.

Just like a father would.

Maybe he wasn't as bad at this as he thought he was.

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**...I wrote a happy story. Wow. If you could leave a review on your way out and tell me what you thought, that would be great. Even if you don't thanks for reading, have a fantastic day, amd DFTBA!**


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